


Princess

by Twisted_Mind



Series: Kinktober 2019 Collection [10]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alpha Peter Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Always Female Stiles Stilinski, Aphrodisiacs, Body Modification, Consent Issues, Edgeplay, F/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Object Insertion, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Piercings, Size Queen Stiles Stilinski, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 00:42:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21090518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Mind/pseuds/Twisted_Mind
Summary: When he pulls out yet another dilator, this one thicker than the other two, Stiles finds her words. “How—how many are you gonna—”He smiles. “As many as it takes to find your limit."





	Princess

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 18 of Kinktober, I went for the trifecta again: Size Queen + Body Modification + A/B/O. It ended up pretty dirtybadwrong. Blame/credit to Bunnywest and DiscontentedWinter for that, because they always break out the pom-poms instead of the flyswatters when I go "I have a terrible idea". 
> 
> Additional warnings: Stiles isn't really on-board with the body mod portion of this (a cartilage piercing), but it's a cultural rite-of-passage for omegas in this 'verse that she's resigned herself to. Her age is kind of ambiguous here, and open to interpretation, and Peter is a _seriously shady motherfucker_ here who is doing all sorts of unethical things. All of these are part of why I used **Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings**, so proceed with caution. 
> 
> Take care of yourselves, use the backspace button if you need it, and have a great weekend <3

Stiles’s breath catches on a whimper as the needle punches through the cartilage of her left ear. The beta doing her helix piercing—a gruff man who introduced himself as Derek—makes absent hushing noises, putting the jewellery in before stepping away. “All done.”

Stiles turns her head and looks in the mirror. She swallows at the sight of the stud glittering at the top of her left ear. The cobalt-blue gem is the symbol of having attended _Hales’ Finishing School for Traditional Omegas_. Given the prestige of the academy, it’s unlikely she’ll ever be able to take it out and replace it with something less flashy unless she gets expelled.

Getting your helix is a rite of passage most omegas look forward to. Stiles is not most omegas, and never has been. Her father is hoping _Hales’_ might bring her a little more in-line.

“All done in here?”

Stiles’s head whips around at the new voice, and she sees none other than alpha and Headmaster Peter Hale in the doorway. He’s the public face of the academy, and she never thought she’d come face-to-face with him unless she was facing expulsion. Or graduating, but she knows which one of those is more likely.

Derek nods. “Yep. She’s in your hands now, Uncle Peter.”

“Excellent.” He gives her a warm, wide smile that she doesn’t trust for a moment. “Come with me, sweetheart.”

Stiles follows him, holding her tongue. She looks around curiously when he leads her into a room that looks like a cross between a doctor’s office and a living room. The door closes behind them, and Master Peter opens a cupboard, fiddling with something she can’t see.

When he turns around, he has an eyedropper in one hand. The other, he uses to cup her chin. “Open.”

Stiles’s eyes dart from his face to the eyedropper and back again. “Why? What’s that?”

“_Open_,” he repeats, steel creeping into his tone. She swallows, and then opens her mouth. The eyedropper dips inside, and something bitter bursts across her tongue. “Good girl.”

He steps away, and her mouth is starting to feel strange. Hypersensitive and tingly. “What was that for, Master Hale?”

He returns, and guides her in front of a large, reclining chair covered in a towel. “It was a little something to relax you, sweetheart. I need to do a physical exam, to fit you for a training plug. It’ll help, make this easier on you.”

What? “Training plug?” She’s never heard of those outside of, like, kinky porn.

“Mhm.” His big hands slide up her sides, peeling her out of her flannel before dropping to the waistband of her jeans. His lip curls. “Do you usually wear these?”

She doesn’t know what’s going on. “Um. Yes?”

He harrumphs. “Next order of business will be getting you a stock of properly-fitting uniforms, then.”

And then he’s peeling her out of them, and her panties, and when did she lose her shoes?

She’s soon sprawled in the reclining chair, bare from the waist-down and knees splayed wide, feeling like her head is full of cotton as need pulses between her thighs. Master Hale sits on a low stool in front of her, a carry case of equipment on his right, and an empty tray to his left.

“Alright sweetness, here we go,” he murmurs, and then he’s pushing two gloved fingers inside her. (When did he put gloves on? Where did he get them from?)

She tries to push his hands away, but her limbs are heavy and clumsy. She’s trying to figure out what to say when he suddenly crooks his fingers against her g-spot, and then all she can do is moan. The hunger she’s been trying to ignore sweeps in and takes over, and she’s grinding her hips into his hand before she can stop herself.

Master Peter just chuckles. “That’s a good omega. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen a cunt this greedy, even with help from my tincture.”

It’s disrespectful and vulgar, and she pulses around his fingers—at least until he pulls them out.

She’s not proud of it, but she whines. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” he mutters, pulling through the equipment case. “I’ll be right back with something nice for you.”

She doesn’t know what that means, but doesn’t have to wait long to find out. A moment later, he's sliding a thick—rod? She doesn’t know what it is. It’s metal, the top is rounded and slid inside her easily, but it doesn’t look like any sex toy she’s ever seen.

“Mm, yes. Not surprising.”

“Wh-what—”

He sets the rod on the tray to his right before pulling another out of the case. “I told you, I need to fit you for a training plug. But in order to do that, I need to know the girth of what you can take. Hence,” he slides the second one inside her, and it’s thicker than the first, fills her up better, “testing your elasticity with a dilator set.”

He pumps the rod—dilator?—inside her a couple times before it goes on the tray next to the other one. When he pulls out yet another dilator, this one thicker than the other two, Stiles finds her words. “How—how many are you gonna—”

He smiles. “As many as it takes to find your limit. But,” the next one slides into her more slowly than the other two, and Stiles feels like she’s being cored open. “I suspect that something in the six-inch range will fit you nicely.”

It’s hard to think around the gentle thrusting of the object inside her, around the way need is making her blood heat and her mind slow, but she mumbles, “Six inches?”

Master Peter hums, removing the latest, and she wants to cry. She needs to come so badly. “Girth, darling. You’ve already gobbled down the four, four-and-a-half, and five-inch dilators.” His hand rubs at her labia, and she realizes he’s adding lubricant. “Now let’s see how you do with the five-and-a-half, hm?”

Stiles feels the stretch this time, and groans. Master Peter makes a thoughtful noise, and gives the dilator a few thrusts, and then removes it, too. He impales her with the next in the line, and she’s—she’s near the end of what she can take. She’s been stretched wide, wider than she’s ever been in her life, and the need to come is a sharp, angry thing snarling in her pelvis.

When he removes this one, too, apparently still unsatisfied, she breaks. “Please, _please_—sir—”

“Easy, easy,” he mutters. “We’re almost there, the six-point-two-five will probably be just what you need.”

Yet another cold, devastatingly thick metal rod pushes into her hungry, gaping cunt, and if it had been left in, if she’d been given the same thrusts with it that he gave her with the others, been allowed to touch her clit, she could’ve gotten there, but it’s taken away, and hot tears prickle her eyes and wet her eyelashes.

And then Master Peter eases the next lubed dilator into her—“Six-and-a-half, sweetheart, what an appetite you have!”—and she starts to shake uncontrollably.

Apparently that’s the sign he’s been waiting for, because he grinds the dilator into her—pressing against absolutely everything, because it’s too big, there’s nowhere for a single nerve ending to hide—and rubs circles over her clit with his other thumb.

She comes so hard she knees him in the shoulder, her vision whiting out, and it feels a little like dying.

Once she catches her breath, she realizes that Master Peter is still touching her, running his big hands up her thighs to her hips and back down to her knees. “We’re done?” she whimpers, because she needs this to be done.

He smiles at her, soft and hungry. “Yes, Princess, we’re done for now. You did well.”

She’s relieved, she’s so relieved she could cry, except—“Princess?”

He kisses the inside of her knee. “Well, you’re no size queen yet, despite being off to an excellent start. But don’t fret,” he looks at her, and suddenly, she feels very small and more than a little afraid, “this was just for your training plug. We’ll get you there.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes. This is now a series. Blame Bunny and Winter for that. No, I don't know when it will update. No, I don't know how many parts it will have. I'm not in control here, please don't ask me anything. 
> 
> [Tumblr](https://queerfictionwriter.tumblr.com/)


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